A Savage Kinda Love Page 12

  "I didn't say anything."

  "The silence from a woman like you speaks volumes, Cheyenne."

  A peculiar look hit his gaze before he sprinted from me like an outraged toddler and returned to the club.

  I hopped back inside my car with a lump in my throat, then blasted the only FM station I knew could play music heavy enough to drown out whatever the hell my thoughts had become by that point, and sped from the lot.

  Chapter Ten

  Breaker of Hearts

  Three days passed without a single word from Malcolm or anyone else from the club. In the same amount of time, I managed to find solace in no other place but my bedroom.

  While gazing at the ceiling in silent wonder of what my world would now become in conjunction with another I barely knew, the doorbell rang. I sighed before turning to the clock on my nightstand and glowered at the 3:00pm flashing in my face as if remaining in bed past noon had become a betrayal to myself since being back home, then pushed the blankets below my waist and dropped my feet to the floor.

  After heading downstairs, I stopped at the front door and crossed my arms. "Who is it?" I called out.

  "Package that needs to be signed," a low voice answered from the other side, "for a Cheyenne Cunningham?"

  "What?" I peeked outside at what appeared to be a UPS man holding onto a clipboard, then reached for the doorknob and pulled back while rattling my head. "A package of what?"

  "Not sure." His brown eyes widened as he wagged the clipboard and nodded toward a small box wrapped in brown paper near his right foot. "Not very heavy--"

  "Was it ticking?"

  He snickered before stopping to clear his throat. "Didn't sound like anything with noise was inside, though I'm not exactly sure."

  "Great."

  He lifted the clipboard to my face and pointed near the end of the page. "Just sign for it there."

  "Where did it come from?" I questioned. "Who did it come from -- Does it say?"

  "Uh, here." He soured while dropping the board inside my hands, then reached for the box. Flipping it left to right, he knit his brows and narrowed his eyes. "From a... Nikko Girabaldi--"

  "Nikko? What the hell would he be sending me a package for? And through UPS instead of Green--?"

  "Don't know, lady, but I have other places I need to be today, so, if you don't mind..." He lowered his eyes back to the board.

  "Sorry." I yanked a red pen from the inside pocket of his shirt and signed where needed before handing the board back to him.

  "Thanks." He dropped the box into my hands, then gave me a quick nod and headed back down the stairs.

  I moved back into the house and closed the door with the heel of my foot, then carried the box into the kitchen and placed it on top of the table. After taking a seat directly in front and poking the corner edge with the tip of my finger to make sure nothing was liable to blow me away, I ripped the brown paper and gradually lifted the lid to peek inside.

  "Wow."

  What I found were an abundance of polaroid’s featuring Nikko that ranged from childhood baseball games where he stood at first base to nearly current day. While combing through each one and taking note of his cherubic face, poetic eyes and smile that seemed to capture a forgotten innocence within, I realized that I was now dealing with a man who was once a boy full of dreams outside of the world created around him; one that inevitably shattered to pieces the minute he was thrown into Rikers and left to fend for himself.

  A few hours and three glasses of wine later, the doorbell rang again. I poured Nikko's pictures back into the box, then hobbled to the front door with a sigh and peeked outside.

  "Baby girl!" Nix called out to me.

  I wagged my head and opened the door with caution, then folded my arms as he stepped forward. "What the hell are you doing here?"

  "Came to check up and see about you since we hadn't heard anything after meeting at the club."

  "Three days ago. I didn't think there was much left to discuss after that." I turned from him with a scowl and headed back into the kitchen.

  He whistled while closing the door and followed behind me, then moved aside and draped his arm across my shoulders. "You realize how much you and Taz need to get your shit back on track, Chey. I know he pissed you off with what he said--"

  "That wasn't the problem so much as the way he said everything." I eased away from him and crossed the room. "Did he tell you about our conversation before I took off?"

  He nodded. "Somewhat."

  "What the hell does that mean?"

  "He told me what he thought I needed to know."

  "Which was what?"

  "His fear about the possibility of you getting in deep with this asshole once he's finally out, Cheyenne. If the muthafucka actually manages to get there... the fact that you might be doing this for more than what you're telling the club."

  "Do the rest of them know what's up yet?"

  He nodded again. "We briefed 'em all after CT. Loco's more pissed than anybody else. Said this shit could've been prevented if your old man was more interested in the club than pussy."

  "That could be said for at least ninety-eight percent of you," I told him. "The other two are dead. Do you want something to drink?"

  "Nothing of what you had if it makes me sound like that."

  "I have beer -- Or, he does, in the cooler at the bottom."

  "What kind?"

  "Does it matter?"

  He shrugged before moving to the fridge and yanking on the door. "What's that box you've got on the table over there?"

  "It's from Nikko."

  He shut the door after finding his beer and clipped the tab. "What the fuck is he sending you over here, Cheyenne?"

  "Just pictures of himself when he was younger."

  "What the fuck kinda pictures?"

  "Some of him playing in a bathtub as a toddler, some of him listening to music and playing high school football -- What does it matter?"

  He slammed the can on top of the counter and shook his head. "Muthafucka is digging deep as shit before he gets outta there."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Sending you pictures of himself when he was a goddamn kid? He's playing on the fact that you've agreed to this shit -- wants you to see him as more than the asshole he was on that courtyard."

  "I saw beyond that when we came face to face, one on one."

  "Shit." He drank back some of his beer and grimaced as I continued.

  "I know that you still don't want to believe us having an actual conversation about what all this will mean once he's on the other side."

  "Has he said shit about Chino making any goddamn progress with him getting out in time to make all this happen?"

  "I haven't actually spoken to him since leaving Rikers... What about you, Snake and Rox? Does he know this is happening?"

  "Yeah." He gulped back the rest of his beer before tossing the can into the trash and dropping back against the sink. "He's pissed as shit."

  "I assumed as much."

  "He made any calls out here yet?"

  "No."

  "If he did, would you have accepted a single goddamn one of 'em?"

  "Yes... At least one." I turned on my heel and stepped to the table. "These pictures just allowed me to see Nikko in the same way I once saw myself before I could speak... vulnerable, naive, unknowing about all the shit happening around me day to day; the many reasons why they had to... He's become who he is because of what he's learned since this last picture of him was taken; pre-tattoos, a wide smile on his face." I lifted the picture from the box and inhaled. Nix moved in beside me and glared. "He almost looks like Prince Eric from The Little Mermaid."

  "Fuckin' Christ. And who the fuck are you? Ariel?" He spun away from me and returned to the fridge. I dropped the picture back into the box and turned to him with a glare. "You don't need to be forgetting the truth of what this asshole has been about since being locked up and the reason he's still there."

  "I haven't
forgotten anything; I also know that he's human and deserves a second or even third chance as much as anyone else within the club."

  "You can't compare who we are and what we do to who he is and what he's done."

  "I just did."

  His shoulders dropped as his eyes lowered from mine. "Baby girl--"

  "I think I should probably head back up to bed. Tomorrow is when I plan to start packing up some things to move out of here and into Nikko's place."

  "You gonna need help with any of this shit?"

  "I'm not packing up my entire life, just what I'll need for the time being."

  "Alright. But if you need anything--"

  "I know."

  He bobbed his head before reaching into the fridge for another beer, then squeezed my arm with affection and headed out the kitchen, back through the house and out the front door.

  After locking myself in for the night, I reached for Nikko's box with plans to head back upstairs, but stopped when the phone rang.

  I placed the box back onto the table and without recognizing the number, answered with the idea that it could be one of the brothers calling from a burner.

  "Hello?"

  A grunt erupted before he spoke. "...Hey there, baby."

  "Wha...?" I turned at the sound of Nikko's rugged voice and gulped. "How the hell did you get this number?"

  "I've got my ways--"

  "Which consist of what?"

  He chortled. "My old man... If it's a problem for you, I can--"

  "No, it's not. I just... I'm surprised to hear from you on the phone, that's all."

  "Shouldn't be."

  I grinned despite every attempt in my bones to hold back from doing so. "And why is that?"

  "You're gonna be my wife soon. Talking on the phone with each other like this should be something normal between us, yeah?"

  I deeply inhaled, then exhaled and shook my head while returning to my chair. "You're calling me from a pre-pay. I didn't recognize the number or get asked anything about accepting the actual call."

  "Didn't want you hanging up in my face, knowing it was me."

  "I wouldn't have hung up," I told him. "At least not at first."

  "Shit." He laughed aloud. "What the fuck are you doing out there?"

  "Going through your package with all the pictures inside. You were a cute kid."

  "I bet you were too, baby," he replied. "Glad you liked what I sent."

  I bit my lip while smiling against my better judgement. "Why did you send this to me?"

  "Wanted you to know more of me outside all this shit. Didn't want you believing that what you saw out here is all I am."

  "I don't believe that -- I didn't before this, not after we talked. But... seeing you with barely a tooth inside your mouth, with no trace of a tattoo--"

  "Still had the one on my back," he said, "just not in the pictures. What do you like better? What you see inside that box or the asshole you met out here?"

  "I don't know yet, because I barely know the asshole I met out there. He wasn't so much of one when we finally spoke."

  "What the fuck was he?"

  "Too much of something else I couldn't explain if I tried."

  He laughed. "What do you plan on doing with the box?"

  "Keeping it safe for the time being. Maybe looking at the pictures every now and then until you're out. Has Chino made any progress there yet?"

  "Some... Not as much as he wants."

  "Or what you want?"

  "Yeah..." He became quiet and cleared his throat. "Shocked you were even home tonight. Thought you might be out doing some other kinda shit."

  "I don't go out much anymore if I can help it."

  "Why the fuck not?"

  "It's not my thing after so many years of the club; every moment there was a 'night out'. Once I got a taste of life outside, I realized nothing was exactly normal about my experience."

  "Maybe not to other people, but the shit was yours, yeah? You should own it."

  "I own every part of who I am, but the club is another story." I paused. "Maybe once you're out, you'll be able to see what I mean for yourself."

  "Looking forward to that shit." He chuckled. "'Til then, I just wanna keep talking to you for as long as I can tonight."

  "How long do you have?"

  "How long do you got for me, Cheyenne?"

  "If we knew each other better, I'd say something like 'a lifetime'."

  "You can still say that shit. Like I said, we're getting married."

  "In name only," I told him.

  "Goddamn. Never missing a beat on this shit."

  "I can't afford to--"

  "Yeah, you could." He grunted through a chuckle. "You're out there alone tonight?"

  "Obviously. And you?"

  "Yeah."

  "What about the other man you were with on the court? Dog?"

  "Still in the tank as far as I know. There's a chance he might get out soon, but I'm not sure... Talked to your old man the other day."

  I nearly swallowed my tongue. "What did he say to you?"

  "Not a whole fuckin' lot. He knows we're getting married and is pissed about that shit; mentioned Snake being the one to tell him."

  "I couldn't do it myself after letting Snake know I agreed to it. A few other members were there and it just... sort of blew up into something I wish it hadn't..." I stopped. "I figured with the idea being Snake's in the first place -- at least in part -- it might've been more coherent coming from him."

  "No telling what he actually said to him."

  "Outside of the truth?"

  He sighed. "Your old man looked me in the face like he wanted to cut my balls straight from my cock and shove 'em down the back of my goddamn throat, Cheyenne."

  "He wouldn't actually do that--"

  "You sure?"

  "You're telling me that if he tried, you would let it happen?"

  "Not in the motherfuckin' least, but I don't need it getting to that point either," he said. "Maybe if he were another motherfucker, I'd take him out before he got close enough. But with him being your old man--"

  "And the fact that you need to remain non-combative until you're finally out of there?"

  "Yeah... That shit too."

  "Why don't we change the subject?" I said. "He knows, and I'll talk to him when I can about it, but--"

  "What'd you eat today?"

  I threw my head back and laughed. "What?"

  "Food. What'd you fuel yourself with before getting on the phone with me tonight?"

  "You say that as if I made the phone call. But I haven't had much to eat all day except for a few cookies, and maybe a few glasses of wine. I didn't get out of bed and stay out of it until 3pm."

  "What kinda cookies did you eat? I'm a goddamn sucker for some chocolate chip."

  "Sugar. They're Rox's favorite and the only kind he ever keeps in his house. Listen, I--"

  "What's your favorite kind, baby?"

  "Of cookie?"

  "Yeah."

  I furrowed my brows and looked to the table. "I don't think I know, honestly. Maybe peanut butter? Why?"

  "Only wondering; let's me know more about you than what I saw.... You mind if I ask you something else? Something more personal?"

  "As if I could stop you from this end of the phone when you had no problem going on when I was right in front of you?"

  He snickered. "Yeah..."

  "What is it?"

  A heavy sigh escaped him before the words came tumbling out of his mouth. "What the fuck are you wearing right now, Cheyenne?"

  "What?" I sat up straight and dropped my free hand to the table.

  "I didn't stutter, baby." He laughed to himself and deeply inhaled; it was one of the sexiest sounds I had ever heard come from a man I knew I wanted but was too damn afraid to have. "I know you don't want me repeating what the fuck I just said?"

  "No..."

  "You gonna answer?"

  I shifted my eyes to the corner of the kitchen and cleared my throat
. "Why are you asking me something like that in the first place?"

  "'Cause it gives me a chance to sleep well tonight after we hang up... gives me something more than what I've got on my mind right now -- no other reason for it."

  "And if I told you that I was wearing sweat pants and a ratty old t-shirt?"

  "What color are the sweat pants?"

  "What?"

  "The goddamn color, baby. What is it?"

  "I don’t know -- blue -- green... blue-green."

  "You're lying to me again." He snickered. "You're goddamn lying to me right now, Cheyenne."

  "I'm not... How would you know either way?"

  "'Cause you would've just answered me otherwise. No need to pause and wonder about me asking if all you were gonna return with was a ratty shirt and sweat pants."

  "You asked me a question I wasn't expecting." I stood up from the chair and moved toward the sink.

  "I asked you what I needed to know."

  "You need it?"

  "Yeah, baby, I do." He swallowed hard and groaned. "So you gonna tell me what you're really wearing now or leave me wondering 'til I see you out here again?"

  "See me out there again? I don't..." I tapped my fingers along the edge of the counter and clinched my teeth; I dipped my head back to stare at the ceiling. "I hadn't planned on going back out there again to see you. If only because I figured the next time we came face to face would be on the outside."

  "Of what?"

  "Rikers, Nikko."

  "Mm... Well, with the shit not going as quickly as it needs to, I wanna see you again before I'm out, Cheyenne."

  "Why?"

  "You want a reason for it?" he questioned.

  "It'd be nice to have one or two."

  "Me just seeing you again 'cause it's what I want ain't enough?" I hesitated to respond, unsure of what I felt in his urgency to see me again so soon. "Baby."

  I bit the corner of my lip and grinded the back of my teeth. "When do you want me out there again, Nikko?"

  "As soon as you can make it back out here to me."

  "I don't know when that'll be."

  "Maybe in the next few days? Unless my old man works some kinda miracle on these assholes and I'm out before you decide to come back, then I guess it won't matter all too much."